


The Mark

by DestielRuinedMyLife (destielruinedmylife)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Dean, Blow Jobs, Demon Dean, Eventual Smut, First Time, Human Castiel, M/M, My First Destiel Fanfic, Porn, Sam Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielruinedmylife/pseuds/DestielRuinedMyLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has finally been cured of the Mark of Cain, but at what cost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mark

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place almost immediately after the most recent episode of Supernatural (10x14) so it contains spoilers up until that point, and is written with the assumption that the reader is familiar with all previous seasons. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> This is my very first fanfic so please be gentle.

Dean can’t deny it; things have been good lately.  It has been a very long time since he has been able to say that.  Not that their lives have ever been easy, but the last year had felt like a whole new level of bad.  The mark of Cain, which he took on in order to defeat Abbadon, turned out to be more dangerous than the Knight of Hell herself.  His reckless decision to absorb the mark in Cain’s cabin that day had cost many innocent people their lives.  Well, maybe not _innocent_ , entirely…but more innocent than Dean Winchester was comfortable with.  But then Cas… his thoughts trailed off again, as they always seemed to do whenever he remembered the enormity of the sacrifice that Cas had made in order to remove the mark and return Dean to the fully human version of himself.  Dean shook it off and headed into the kitchen. 

 

The Men of Letters bunker had turned out to be a more permanent living situation than either he or Sammy had ever thought they would have again.  Although there was not a single book, weapon, or high-pressure shower in the place that either one of them wouldn’t have gladly traded to be back in Bobby’s termite-eaten house breathing in the smell of whiskey and Old Spice, listening to the old man yell at them for some damn thing, at least the bunker was starting to feel like a home.  Dean grabbed a skillet and some eggs; when Sam and Cas returned from the road they’d be hungry.  He was careful to scramble some spinach with Sam’s eggs since the little (big) weirdo loved his vegetables, and he chopped some bacon to throw into his and Castiel’s, who had acquired Dean’s penchant for meat.  Or maybe it was a leftover preference from his vessel’s previous owner, who knew.  Regardless, Dean felt like making sure things were in order and ready for them when they came home was the least he could do, considering he was still riding the pine until everyone agreed he was ready to return to hunting.  After the damage Dean had caused while bearing the mark, he figured they had a right to be cautious…but Dean did not like feeling useless.  So, omelets.

 

By the time Sam and Cas came tromping through the front door of the bunker, breakfast was on the table and Dean was washing the dishes.  At the sound of their voices he came out of the kitchen and upon seeing the state they were in, immediately shouted “Do you know how long it takes to clean this place??”  Sam and Cas abruptly stopped talking and looked down at their blood-spattered clothes and dirty boots, which they both now realized were tracking mud all over the bunker floor.  Mumbling apologies, they took off their boots and headed for the table.  “Nuh-uh guys- shower then eggs”.  Sam rolled his eyes and headed for his room, while Cas, after giving breakfast a longing look, followed suit.  Dean sighed and took their plates to the kitchen to warm them up in the microwave.

 

Time passed and eventually Dean rejoined the hunt.  It was the closest he felt to normal, on the road with his brother and his best friend.  For most hunters, dealing with vampire nests, skin-walkers, demons, and the odd leviathan would be about as much danger and excitement as one could expect.  But for the Winchesters, this felt eerily calm.  Around every corner they expected to find the next insurmountable task: An apocalypse, a bloody war, a quest, a heretofore unknown, un-killable monster.  But after 2 months since losing the mark there was still nothing.  Crowley was still out there, sure, but after murdering his own mother he had retreated into Hell, and for now seemed fully absorbed in the minutia of day-to-day rule.  The boys weren’t sure how long that might last, but they weren’t going to look that gift horse in the mouth.  So it was back on the road for the Winchesters.  Sam had all of the technology at his fingertips to make sure that they were alerted whenever something cropped up somewhere that needed their specialized attention.  They had made contact with many of the hunters that Garth had been coordinating before his unfortunate transformation and Sam had taken on the task of assigning them cases.  He handed out the straightforward, easier hunts and kept the bigger jobs for himself, his brother, and Cas.  This was not ego, but simple logic.  They were the best and it was just fact.  They were legends in the hunting community at this point.  Although there were some who still resented the Winchesters for various reasons, some fair and some unfair, when it came down to it, they all fell in line.  After all, they were the friggin’ Winchesters.  And they had their angel.  Well, their former angel.

 

Dean lay awake, as he had being doing most nights lately, thinking about that day.  The day he was saved.

 

After he had lost control in that dingy house, slaughtering the men who were threatening Claire, they had all known it was only a matter of time.  He hadn’t butchered those men because they were threatening someone he knew, or because they were bad guys.  He had slaughtered them because he had wanted to; hell, he had been _dying_ to… and that was the beginning of the end.  Something had to be done and they all knew it.  What had to be done, exactly, was something Dean and Sam did not see eye to eye on.  Dean wanted to be put down.  Under no circumstances did he want to hurt another human again, and he was willing to give his life for the assurance that he would not.  Sam, he knew, would never let that happen.  They would find a way, he said.  They would fix this.  Sam was not going to lose his brother again- that would happen over his dead body.  Dean knew that, understood that.  He would have done the same if he had been in Sam’s place, so he didn’t even attempt to argue.  But Cas.  He had told Cas in that shitty bar that if he ever truly went off the rails, Cas was the one who had to stop him.  Permanently.  And as pained as he looked, Cas had agreed.  Cas was supposed to do what Sam couldn’t.  Cas was an angel.  He was the only one capable of stopping him and so it was his job to shut it all down.  But Castiel, angel of the Lord, never had any such intent.  Even then, although he may not have known the details, a plan had begun to form.  An idea took hold in Castiel’s mind and finally came to fruition weeks later when Dean did in fact become too violent and volatile to contain.

 

Dean still didn’t know the details of the ritual that had occurred or how Cas had even gone about discovering it.  His memory came in bursts, in flashes of blood and fury, and finally light.  Between was only a gray haze… all he knew was that after he had slain Cain, everything was a blur of despair and the constant effort of pretending to be okay...  then came the day.  It was just a regular hunt, but Dean had lost control.  After killing some demons who had been possessing a handful of gang members in an attempt to start gaining a foothold in a large city, he had been unable to stop; just slashing and choking and ripping his way through flesh and bone, not caring whether human or demon resided within.  All he saw was red and all he heard was pumping blood and a voice from inside urging him on.  He faintly heard Sam shouting his name, begging him to stop, trying to tackle him, to hold him back.  He threw his brother off without effort.  Then he turned, and there was Castiel.  In that moment, Dean knew that he was dead.  He saw everything he had become with the same perfect clarity as he saw the angel before him.  He knew that this was the end.  All he could think was that he was so glad that it was Castiel who was sending him to the afterlife (well to Hell- at this point who was he kidding).  Castiel who had rescued him from Hell, who had believed in him, who had rebelled for him, who had been murdered by Lucifer for him… he was now sending him out of this life because he knew that the Dean he fought for would not want to be this creature.  This monster.  Dean closed his eyes and dropped his blade.  He was ready.

 

The next thing Dean felt was Castiel’s arm grasping his and all he could see was the hottest white light imaginable.  He screamed and fell to the ground but Castiel did not let go of his arm.  It felt like all of the blood in his body was flowing through his arm and into the angel and it burned like fire.  He heard Cas’s voice chanting- words that sounded vaguely Enochian but were nothing like he had ever heard before.  Cas then drug him to his feet, placed his other hand on Dean’s forehead, and Dean remembered nothing else until he woke up in his bed, 3 days later.

 

After Dean came to, all that Cas would tell him was that he had found a cure.  He had cured him.  Dean noticed that Sam looked perturbed and would stare at Cas intently whenever Cas would say things like that.  Dean would have been bothered, but he seemed to be more concerned with sleeping 12 hours a day and his brain did not cooperate when he tried to analyze the strange behavior of his brother.  The mark was gone, his brother and his friend were alive; he could not imagine a better outcome.  So he didn’t question.  The realization began to grow on him about a week later, when Dean finally ventured out of his room.

 

Dean took the longest, hottest shower he had ever allowed himself and put on actual clothes.  It had only been a week or so since he was cured of the mark but he was finally feeling like he could at least partially rejoin the world again.  At the very least he could go forage in the kitchen for some food instead of eating whatever Sam placed by his bed while he slept.  He walked out into the main room and while he was not particularly prone to eavesdropping, he heard something that stopped him in his tracks in the hallway.  Sam was clearly upset with Cas.  “It’s all well and good you protecting him while he is weak and healing, but how much longer do you think you can keep this from him??”  Cas’s voice was quieter, and tinged with sadness. “Sam how can you ask me to tell him.  He would feel awful.  How can you ask me to…” Cas’s voice broke.  Dean stood stock-still, deeply bothered to hear the pain in his friend’s voice and feeling a dark pressure wrap around his heart as it dawned on him that of course, it couldn’t have been that easy.  Sam’s voice again; “Cas, look, I’m sorry.  I know how you feel about him.  But isn’t that part of the problem?  You can’t protect him from the truth, no matter how much you…” Sam trailed off.  Dean decided he was not ready for any part of this and went back to bed.  He wanted to know what Cas had done for him but he also _really_ didn’t, and the sick feeling in his stomach was demanding he go back to sleep.

 

Another week had passed, and Dean Winchester slept through most of it.  But one day he woke up and knew with certainty that whatever his body had been going through was done.  He felt whole and strong again.  After showering and dressing, he left his room with renewed purpose and sought out Castiel.  Cas was sitting in the main room reading a book with his feet crossed on top of the table- a pose that Dean himself had adopted many times.  Seeing Cas like that made him feel warm and amused all at once, but there was no time for that now.  Dean had to know.  He sat down across from Cas, who put down his book, lowered his feet, and stared at Dean. “You are up.  How are you feeling?”  Dean cleared his throat.  “I’m great Cas.  Much better.  Let’s cut to the chase.  What did you do?”  Cas looked down briefly then back up at Dean.  “I do not know what you mean.  I found a way to remove the mark.  I am glad you are better, Dean.”  Seconds passed.  Finally Dean asked “So why are you hanging out here so much?  What is going on in Heaven?”

 

“I don’t know, Dean.”

 

“Why don’t you know?”

 

In that moment, Dean knew that he had won.  Cas’s shoulders slumped, and the defiance left his eyes.  He sighed heavily.  “Sam is right- I have to tell you.  Dean, removing the mark required something beyond magic, beyond ritual, beyond a quest. It required sacrifice.  A great sacrifice.”

 

Dean, with panic growing in his chest, managed to choke out the words. “Cas. What. Did. You. DO.”

 

“Dean, I sacrificed my divinity.  This is not like Metatron taking my grace, or having it slowly fade because I am cut off from Heaven.  I gave up not only my grace but also the possibility of ever regaining it.”  Castiel paused, then looked into Dean’s eyes, afraid of the anger and disappointment he might find there.  “Dean I am not only no longer an angel, I will never be one again.  My divinity is forfeit, as is any power that came with it.  It all flowed into your body and eradicated the mark, along with all of the power the mark held.  The dark and the light canceled each other out.  As a result, I am a human, now and forever.”

 

Even though Dean had formed a vague idea of what the price might have been, he still reeled.  The awe he felt at what Cas had done for him could not overcome the anger in his voice.  “Cas, how COULD you.  My life was over.  I have saved enough people and I have caused enough pain.  I was finished.  Man, that was the stupidest thing you have EVER done.  And more importantly, it is not what you promised me.”

 

Cas stood up slowly, looked at Dean, and a small smile crept over his face. “You fail to understand Dean.  I didn’t do this for you.”  And with that, Cas walked out of the room.

 

Dean thought about that conversation as he lay awake in bed, replaying it over and over again in his mind, wondering what Cas could have possibly meant by that final statement.  He could have just asked him of course, but being Dean Winchester, he instead chose to pretend the conversation had never happened and they had resumed normal life after that.  Well, as normal as life came for them.

 

With Castiel’s newfound humanity came a marked change in his dynamic with the Winchesters.  Although he had spent a brief amount of time as a human in the past, due to Gadreel’s interference it had mostly been spent apart from the boys and anyway it had not lasted long.  Dean discovered that during the time he had been recuperating from the ritual, Cas had thrown himself into training with Sam.  The ritual seemed to have had no negative effect on Cas’s physical being beyond the draining of his angelic power, so not wanting to be a burden on the boys, he had immediately set out to become stronger and more skilled.  Because Cas had discovered the ritual weeks prior to using it and knew it would become a necessity eventually, he had come to terms with the idea of the transformation by the time it occurred.  He was embracing his new life, and beyond the physical inconveniences that came with having a mortal vessel, his only concern was learning how to protect himself and his friends in combat.  Besides wanting to stay with the Winchesters he also felt that he still had much to atone for.  Hunting seemed the most logical way to try to make a difference.  His knowledge was still vast and despite the loss of his powers he was determined to contribute.  But hunts were different now, as the boys had to watch Cas’s back instead of hanging back while he effortlessly smote the enemy.

 

Since Sam had been the one to begin training Cas while Dean was incapacitated, that was the way it continued.  Cas had shown a natural aptitude for weapons, as his body still retained the muscle memory of wielding an angel blade and occasionally a knife or gun.  Physically his vessel was strong but he pushed it to be stronger, developing muscles where Jimmy had lacked them and sparring with Sam to improve his hand-to-hand fighting techniques.  Castiel did not like cardio.  The days that Sam made him run on a treadmill made him curse the entire human race for inventing such a sadistic instrument of torture.  Over time Cas grew into a competent hunter and remained a valuable asset to the boys when it came to lore. 

 

Ever since their initial conversation about the ritual, Cas had seemed… off, to Dean.  At first Dean had kept his distance thinking that Cas just needed his space, but hearing Sam and Cas joke and train made him feel an ache for the friendship they had once had.  The few times Dean had offered to train Cas or spar with him, Cas had never taken him up on it.  While Sam and Dean were closer to each other than they had been in a very long time, he felt shut out of the newly close friendship that had developed between his brother and his friend.  With the relative calm came more downtime, so the brothers bonded over the mindless pastimes they had so rarely been afforded in the past.  They watched Game of Thrones and argued over who should occupy the Iron Throne.  They watched The Three Stooges and laughed until their sides hurt.  They even occasionally reminisced about the handful of happy memories they had from their childhoods, and joked about the rare moments of levity during their hunts (“Dude, you LITERALLY yelled “Fight the faeries” in public!”).  The only topic that seemed off-limits to Sam was Castiel.  Initially he had asked Dean if he wanted to talk about what had happened, but Dean had shut him down instantly.  Sam knew better than to push.

 

The three of them had fallen into a comfortable routine, with the distance he felt between himself and Cas being the only thing that continued to nag at Dean.  He had come to the conclusion that Castiel could never really forgive him for being the reason he was no longer an angel, and that was something that Dean could understand.  Whether Dean had asked to be saved or not, he had been, and he figured that every time Castiel looked at him he was reminded of what he had lost.  It made him sad; miserable in fact, but he kept it to himself.  It _was_ his fault, after all.  He had accepted the mark without consulting anyone, and as usual, someone else had ended up falling on their sword to protect him from the consequences of his own stupid-ass actions.  He felt sad and guilty, but reminded himself that the three of them were all they had, and at least they were all in one piece.  It occurred to him that Cas would now grow old and die, and he started wondering if Cas would ever leave them and start a normal, human life on his own.  The idea gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but Dean had never been good with change.  He pushed it out of his head.  After all, there was always work to be done.  All of the supernatural scumbags out there weren’t going to off themselves.

 

Dean startled up from his laptop to see Castiel sitting down on the edge of his bed.  Even though Cas could no longer teleport, he moved like a damn cat and Dean had not even heard him come in.  Cas was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, having ditched the suit and trench coat ages ago, as they were not easy to fight in now that he was human.  Dean sometimes missed them, and wondered if Cas still had them stashed away somewhere.  Occasionally he would catch him wearing one of his old t-shirts, and the way it hung off of him, just a touch too big, stirred something in Dean that he didn’t fully understand.  A strange sort of pride mixed with possessiveness.  His mind jerked back to the present and he frowned at Cas. “Dude, could you knock?” “The door was open.” the former angel said simply.  Dean could read nothing on Cas’s expressionless face and it came to him suddenly that they had not had a conversation one-on-one since the day he found out Cas was human, and he wondered how that was even possible.  Cas must have been going to great lengths to avoid it.  “What’s up, Cas?”  Castiel stood up and paced a few steps before saying “Dean, it is time for me to leave.”  Dean felt his heart stop for a full beat.  He had a long-held fear of abandonment for a very good reason, but this felt different.  He tried to control his voice.  Looking somewhere over Cas’s shoulder he managed to sound natural “Oh yeah? For how long?” 

 

“I don’t know, Dean.  Maybe a very long time.”

 

“Where will you go?”  Dean was still holding it together, but he started to feel the fear turn to anger and he knew he was going to lose it soon.

 

“I’m not really sure.  I have some money and am sufficiently trained, I may team up with one of our hunter friends who hunts solo and could use the backup.”

 

Dean looked back down at his laptop. “I see. Well, good luck.”  He didn’t look up again but could feel Cas staring down at him.  “You’re angry.”  Dean snapped back “No Cas, I’m not angry.  I don’t have the right to be angry.  You saved my life and newsflash: sacrificed yours in the process since now you’re going to die eventually, so even though I didn’t ask for it I am not allowed to be angry at you, ever.  Even though you’ve been walking around resenting me for months, politely treating me like an acquaintance.  Treating me like we haven’t been through hell and back together.  So yeah, I understand why you have to leave, but please don’t ask me to act like everything is okay.” 

 

Cas resumed his seat on the bed.  Dean finally looked up at him and when he saw the tears stinging Cas’s eyes, he regretted his words immediately.  “Look Cas, I’m sorry man… I’m a selfish asshole, I know.  It’s just been hard lately and it will be even harder to lose you completely.  If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have many friends.  But that’s not your problem and I’m sorry I’m taking it out on you.”  Cas turned to face him and Dean saw instantly that the tears were not hurt as he assumed; they were anger. “Dean, kindly shut up.”  Dean blinked. “What?”  “Dean do you really think that after giving all I had to save you, I would just throw our friendship away because I blamed you for a decision I MADE, which was in no way your doing?  Is that what you believe?”  Dean said slowly “Then…why?  Why have you been avoiding me and I swear to God Cas do NOT deny that you have been doing it.”  Cas sighed heavily.  “Dean, when I said I did not sacrifice my grace for you, did you never wonder what I meant by that?”  Dean was now thoroughly confused.  “I guess I just thought you were trying to make me feel better.  I didn’t really think about it, I just thought we’d move on…” Dean trailed off. 

 

“That’s the problem Dean.  I can’t “move on”, as you say.  I didn’t save you for you, Dean, I saved you for me.”  Dean continued to look confused as Cas continued. “I am going to say some things to you, Dean.  This will probably change our friendship forever, if it doesn’t end it outright, but I have realized that there is no other option that doesn’t end in confusion and hurt for everyone involved.  I am still new at being human, and I have never been particularly good at expressing myself anyway, but here it is.  I love you, Dean.”  Dean’s faced cleared and he instantly replied “Cas you know I love you too, man, what does-“ Cas cut him off. “NO Dean, not like that.  I am in love with you, and have been for as long as I can remember.”  That shut Dean up.  He stared at Cas in shock and could only wait for him to continue.  “It took a while before I could fully admit it to myself.  After all, I was an angel and you are a human.  Such feelings are strictly forbidden and acting on them carries with it a sentence of death in Heaven.  These things do happen, although they are extremely rare.  Occasionally even offspring is produced through these unholy unions, which Heaven considers to be abominations, although in our case obviously that wouldn’t be an issue…” “CAS!” Dean cut him off.  What are you saying, man?  You’ve been avoiding me because… you love me?” 

 

“Dean, I realize this comes as a shock.”  Cas stood up again and straightened his shoulders, as if resigned to whatever came next. “I realize something else as well.  I realize you cannot return the feelings that I have for you.  Although angels are genderless the vessel I was bound to and the form I am forever in now is that of a man, and I would not change that even if I could.  And even if it were not, I have no reason to believe you would feel anything beyond friendship for me.  So being here has become too difficult for me.  I cannot be around you any longer.  I am indebted to you and your brother for everything you have done for me, but I must go.  Farewell, Dean”.

 

“Wait!” Dean shouted, forgetting momentarily that Castiel was no longer able to disappear into thin air.  “Look, um… look.  I can’t say that I know what to do with this.  I have no idea what I am supposed to say here.  I need some time to process, man.  But please don’t leave thinking that I’m angry at you for feeling that way, or that I don’t care about you…” Dean trailed off lamely.  Cas smiled a sad smile that made Dean’s heart hurt. “It’s okay Dean, I know that you care about me.  And if you ever need me, for any reason, you have my number.  I will always come when you call, Dean.”  Cas began to leave the room and in one swift motion, without a thought, Dean was off the bed and wrapped Castiel into a bear hug.  He pulled away awkwardly and clapped his hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  “Take care of yourself, Cas.”  Castiel smiled and continued out the door.

 

Days passed and Dean felt wretched.  His thoughts swirled with confusion and regret.  Should he have said or done something different?  Had he hurt Cas?  Could he have made him stay?  And why in the holy hell did he seem to be unable to think about anything other than what Castiel might be doing or feeling at any given moment?  Sam had been giving Dean his space, which Dean appreciated, but he had a feeling that Sam must know why Cas had split.  Those two had been thick as thieves lately, after all.  He wondered if Cas had confided his feelings for Dean in Sam, and if so, how long ago.  His mind returned to the conversation he had overheard right after being cured of the mark, and his heart sank as he realized his brother had known for at least that long. 

 

Finally one day, he couldn’t bear the silence any longer.  Sam was in the bunker’s library when Dean decided to get some answers.  He had even managed to work up some righteous anger at the thought that Sam had kept such a huge secret from him.  “Hey Sam, got a minute?”  Sam looked up from whatever thick, and in Dean’s opinion, boring-ass, book he was reading that week.  “Sure, what’s up?”  One look at Dean’s face and Sam knew exactly what was up.  He wordlessly walked over to the sideboard, picked up a bottle of whiskey and two glasses and set them all on the table between himself and Dean.  “Sit down.”  Dean obeyed.  Sam poured them both a generous amount and they both took their first drink.  Finally Dean broke the silence.  He was still uncomfortable talking about these sorts of things but he had done a lot of growing up emotionally in the past couple of years and learned the hard way that when he let things fester it never ended well for anyone.  He was in his 30’s now for fuck’s sake.  He fought demons and monsters, did he really want it to be said that he was afraid of having a fucking real conversation? 

 

“So I was just wondering how much Cas told you when he left… about WHY he left.”  Sam cleared his throat.  “Yeah Dean, I know why he left.”  Dean allowed himself a moment of huffiness.  “And you didn’t think to clue me in that all this was going on??”  Sam sighed.  “That would have been betraying a confidence Dean.  It wasn’t my secret to tell and you know it.”  Dean, deflated, poured another drink.  “You miss him, don’t you?”  Dean snorted.  “Well of course I miss him, he’s my friend.  At least that’s what I thought he was...”  Sam recoiled slightly. “Oh, so now that you know how he feels about you, he’s not your friend??  After everything you’ve been through together!” “That’s not what I meant Sammy, it’s just…Goddamn it, who the hell would have known??” 

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You mean besides me?  And pretty much everyone else who ever saw you two together?”  Dean felt his cheeks flush and his anger rushing back. “Wait, you’re telling me that you knew before he even told you?  And also, are you implying it was _mutual_??  Do I have to remind you of how many women I’ve been with, for fuck’s sake??”  Sam’s frustration finally got the better of him. “Yeah Dean, I remember.  That is, I can if I think _really_ far back, because unless you count the time you were a demon, by my count it’s been an extremely long time since you’ve been with ANYONE.  And why exactly do you suppose that is??”  Dean had heard enough. “Sam I’m not fucking gay and if you don’t shut up I swear to God.”  “You’ll WHAT, Dean??” Sam was shouting now.  “Beat me up?  Kind of like Dad did to you when he found that gay porno mag under your mattress?? Go right the fuck ahead!”  All the color drained from Dean’s face.  He had never felt more furious in his life, but by the time he regained his bearings Sam had stomped out of the room.  Dean didn’t follow him.

 

After a few tense days the brothers caught a case and resumed a comfortable, if strained routine.  When they hunted together it was difficult to hold onto a fight.  There was too much teamwork involved; too much trust.  They didn’t speak about Cas anymore, but as it turned out they wouldn’t have to.  About 3 weeks after Cas’s departure Sam received a panicked message from one of their hunter contacts that Cas and Louis, one of the hunters in their network who Cas had teamed up with, had been sent to clean out a vamp nest.  Unfortunately, the hunter who called Sam had gotten word that the Alpha vampire himself might be visiting that particular nest, and he had no way to get word to Cas and Louis who were not answering their phones.  Sam and Dean were the closest hunters to the nest.  They were geared up and out the door inside of 5 minutes.  Sam wanted to drive but Dean wasn’t having any of it, so Sam gritted his teeth while Dean pushed the Impala to the point where Sam was seriously concerned they would not live to help their friend. 

 

When the Impala pulled off the road near where the nest was supposed to be located, they instantly saw the gold tint of that horrible car Cas still insisted on driving.  It was parked behind a clump of trees and it was empty.  The boys, loaded with dead man’s blood and armed with machetes, started making their way to the enormous old house they could see in the distance.  As they neared the house, it became clear that it was far too quiet for any kind of attack to be going on.  This could either be very good or very bad news.  They approached the front door slowly and saw that it was ajar.  Dean pushed it open slowly and they entered the house.  The first thing that greeted them was a severed head right underfoot.  Vampire.  They moved through the house, finding body after body in many of the rooms. 

 

Suddenly Sam stopped dead at one of the doorways, causing Dean to run into him.  “Dude!” Dean moved around Sam, annoyed, until Sam put a hand on Dean’s arm and held him back.  In the middle of the room lay Louis’s body.  His neck was ripped out, clearly the work of a vampire.  Dean felt his knees buckle.  Sam’s strong arm steadied him.  If Louis was dead… Dean couldn’t bear to think of it.  All sense of caution abandoned, Dean began to rush through the rest of the house, shouting Cas’s name.  Sam followed at his heels, knowing it was pointless to try to stop his brother’s recklessness.  After Dean had made it through all of the rooms with no sign of Cas, he dropped to his knees.  He wasn’t sure if it was due to relief that Cas’s body was not there, or despair at the thought that Cas was most likely dead.  As Sam approached, Dean cleared his throat and gruffly ordered Sam to check the perimeter.  Sam, realizing Dean needed to be alone, obeyed.  Had there been anything outside they would have already seen it. 

 

Finally Dean rose to his feet and followed Sam out of the house.  He walked back to Castiel’s car, which did not tell him anything useful.  Where was Cas?  Maybe the Alpha had been there.  Maybe he had taken Castiel with him, for whatever reason.  Maybe Cas had escaped.  Or maybe he was being tortured… Dean Winchester had never felt such panic in his life.  What if that was the last time he was ever going to see his friend?  What if Cas was dead and it was all his fault for letting him go off on his own?  Dean was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed the approaching shadow.  “Okay Sam, we have to start looking for tracks” he began, then he looked up.  Castiel stood in front of him.  He was dirty and covered with blood, but very much alive. 

 

“Hello Dean.  What are you doing here?”  Dean’s jaw dropped.  He wrapped his arms around his friend and buried his face in Cas’s shoulder.  Cas spoke, a little teasingly, “It’s good to see you too, Dean.”  Dean pulled away, his green eyes flashing with anger. “Man that is not funny, we thought you were dead!”  Cas sighed.  “Well, half of us are.”  He looked at the house sadly.  “What happened?”  Cas shook his head.  “Another time, Dean.  I’m about to collapse.  Just know that this particular hunt is finished.  The Alpha escaped and we lost a good man, but it is over.  It was good to see you, but I need to get back and rest.  I will fill you in later.” 

 

In that moment, Dean Winchester had two options.  He could let this man drive away, this infuriating man who had consumed his every thought ever since he had walked out of the bunker, this man who he had almost lost, for the _second_ time, or… Dean moved forward quickly and pressed his mouth onto Castiel’s hard, pushing him up against his ridiculous car.  The kiss was passionate, almost desperate, and Dean felt electricity jolt through his entire body.  Then all at once, Cas pushed him away.  “Dean, what are you doing?”  Dean, out of breath, had no answer.  He just stared at Cas.  “I guess… I just wanted to see.  I mean, I’ve missed you and I was so scared you were gone for good…” Dean trailed off.  “I see.”  Cas looked at Dean with the same sad look Dean remembered from the bunker. “Dean I appreciate the sentiment, but you are not sure.  You are simply afraid of losing me, which will never happen, incidentally.  But I need you to be sure that _this_ is what you want.  Until then, I wish you the best.” 

 

Cas started to get into his car, then all at once he hesitated and broke into a wide smile.  Dean had never seen Cas smile like that before- it was almost devilish, and Cas added “Just so you know, if you ever _are_ sure, Dean… I should warn you that you are really in for it.”  Castiel winked- the bastard actually WINKED.  And with that Cas got into his car and drove off, leaving Dean open-mouthed and beet-red, with an uncomfortable tightness in his pants.

 

Later that night, Dean looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway to his bedroom.  Sam had been suspiciously absent during Cas and Dean’s little reunion by the car and completely silent on the car ride home.  Dean knew he must have seen Cas as well, or else he would have wondered why they weren’t looking for him.  “What’s up, Sam?”  Sam looked at Dean resolutely. “Okay Dean, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I have to say that I’m sorry.”  “For what, Sam?”  “For what I said to you that day.”  Dean started to cut him off angrily but Sam pushed on. “No Dean, you need to listen.  I had no right to bring that up.  I know that Dad had certain ideas of what constituted a man and the parts of you that didn’t fall in line with that were punished.  Dad was wrong to do that to you.  And you need to understand that if you do have feelings for Cas, it doesn’t mean you have to walk around wearing a label you aren’t comfortable with.  It doesn’t mean you’re not the same person you have always been.  Dean, it doesn’t mean you didn’t love Lisa.  It doesn’t mean anything, other than that you love Castiel.”  With that, Sam walked away and left Dean alone with his thoughts. 

 

The fact was, his body had responded to that kiss.  It had responded violently.  Dean was terrified of what that meant, but Sam’s words rang true in his ears and somehow managed to soothe him.  He remembered the smell of Cas’s body, the taste of his mouth, and his body responded again.  Could it really be as simple as Sam said?  Could he live with a version of himself that loved another man as easily as he loved a woman?  Sam was not exaggerating the way John had reacted the few times he had caught Dean perusing magazines or movies that were not 100% straight.  Close quarters meant that he almost never had privacy, so after being caught a few times he repressed his curiosity altogether.  And since he was attracted to women as well, it wasn’t impossible to do.  Over the years he had internalized John’s homophobia himself, and he had thought that whatever curiosity or feelings he may have had as a kid had been effectively eradicated.  But then came Castiel, and later Benny, who he realized even then he loved in a much more complicated way than he let himself acknowledge. 

 

 

He had recognized that Cas was achingly beautiful from the moment he saw him.  It was simply knowledge that existed in his head- nothing to be acted on or examined, it just sat there as a fact.  Castiel was beautiful.  So what.  Until Cas had admitted his feelings for him and thrown him into this tailspin, Dean had thought it was irrelevant.  But as he glanced down at the bulge in his pants he was forced to admit that it had become very, very relevant.  He loved Cas and Cas loved him.  Some people would kill to be so lucky.  Dean toyed with the idea of masturbating but his mind was swirling with too many thoughts, so in the end he just fell into a fitful sleep. 

 

The next morning Sam was already up drinking coffee when Dean stumbled into the kitchen.  “Rough night?”  “Shut up, Sam” Dean mumbled as he reached for his mug.  Dean was tapping his fingers sullenly on the table, and started to speak but stopped a few times before he finally said, “Listen, about what you said… let’s say for argument’s sake that I DID have feelings for Cas… are you saying you wouldn’t be weirded out by it?”  Sam grinned widely. “Dude I don’t even know who the hell you think you are talking to right now.”  Dean flushed and stared intently into his coffee.  “I guess I’ve been kind of an idiot.”  Sam boomed out a triumphant “FINALLY!” as he exited the room. 

 

“You know, he’s not going to appear just because you keep staring at your phone, his angel mojo is gone…” Dean jumped then turned around to glare at Sam.  “I wasn’t staring at anything, I was just spacing out.”  “Riiight… look, if you want me to clear out for a few days…”  Dean scoffed.  “Look, just because I’m going to invite him here to talk doesn’t mean…whatever you’re implying.  I just think we have things we need to sort out.  And yeah, maybe there could be something between us.  But I’m not rushing into anything and I’m not even sure there’s anything to rush into, so you can wipe that shitty grin off your face.”  Sam raised his arms in mock surrender.  “Whatever you say, man, I’m just saying you’ve been in here staring at your phone for like, half an hour.”  As Sam wandered off, Dean resolutely raised his phone and pressed a button.

 

When Dean had asked Cas to come to the bunker, Cas hadn’t even asked any questions.  He was fresh off a hunt so apologized in advance for looking tore up but other than that it was just, “See you in a couple of hours, Dean”.  Two hours later Dean was pacing in the front room, wondering if he should have even called at all.  What if his response to the kiss was a fluke?  What if he ended up unable to go through with anything and he broke Cas’s heart, on top of everything else he had done to the guy?  This new Cas was definitely more self-assured, maybe even a little cocky, but Dean was still terrified of hurting him. 

 

Sam walked by his pacing brother and offered again.  “Dude, I can leave you guys alone…” Dean snapped at him “Drop it, Sammy.  This place is huge for fuck’s sake, I’m pretty sure Cas and I can have a private conversation if we want…”  Just then, he was interrupted by the front door.  Castiel walked in wearing one of Dean’s old worn-out AC/DC t-shirts, a pair of faded jeans that were hanging off his narrow hips, and aviator sunglasses.  He was toting a crossbow.  When Sam saw the look on Dean’s face he smirked, wordlessly reached into Dean’s front pocket and removed the keys to the Impala, then headed for the door.

 

Castiel smiled widely as Sam made his exit.  He approached Dean slowly and placed his crossbow on the table between them.  Dean looked at him and couldn’t help but smile- this new grin of Cas’s was infectious.  “Cas, how did you know?  How did you know I would call?”  Cas walked around the table until he was facing Dean, but was careful not to come too close. “I knew because I’ve seen your soul, Dean.  I’ve felt it with my hands.  I know your essence, inside and out.  There is nothing I do not know and love about you Dean Winchester, but there were things that you had to discover for yourself.”  Dean stared into the deep blue of Castiel’s eyes and felt as though he had never known him at all.  The past 7 years came rushing through his mind all at once and he found himself reevaluating every word, every touch.  He really was a slow study, wasn’t he…

 

Meanwhile, Cas’s expression had changed.  The smile remained, but all of a sudden it was predatory.  Hungry.  “Dean, I am standing right here.  I may not be able to read your thoughts any longer but I sure as fuck read your eyes when I walked into this bunker.  If you see something you want, take it.”  Dean startled at hearing the former angel swear, and if he had been hard before it was nothing compared to how his cock reacted to hearing those words come out of Cas.  He closed the gap between them and crushed Cas’s mouth into a kiss, tangling his hands in the man’s already wild bed-head hair.  Cas’s hands went instantly under Dean’s t-shirt, moving up his chest and then across his waist.  “I guess if your brother is gone there is no need to move this into the bedroom.” Cas managed to mumble.  Dean was so lost in sensation he barely even heard him.  All of the years came crashing down in a tangle of release and desire, and he felt like he might explode from the relief of it.  As much as Dean wanted to fuck Cas right over the table, he felt himself also wanting to hold him in his arms, to undress him and lay next to him.  He heard that same old voice in his head calling him a sissy for feeling that way, but for the first time, Dean told it to shut the fuck up.  He pulled himself off of Cas, took him by the hand, and led him to his room.

 

Once there, Dean realized that outside of a one-night stand with a reaper, this would be Cas’s first time.  The thought made him instantly grateful he had slowed things down.  As much as Cas seemed all at once eager and at ease, Dean wanted to make sure everything was perfect for him.  Cas was now the one who didn’t want to wait.  He pulled Dean’s shirt off over his head and in an unexpected motion, backed him against the bed so that the mattress hit the back of Dean's knees and he was forced to sit.  Cas pulled his own shirt off over his head and pushed Dean onto his back, crawling up his body to begin kissing him again.  His hands wandered all over Dean’s stomach and chest, as if he couldn’t bear for there to be an inch of Dean he did not touch. 

 

As for Dean, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands out of Cas’s hair.  When he had first met the angel, his hair and lips had always been points of fixation for the hunter.  Well that, and his eyes.  But even then Dean had the thought, quickly pushed to the side, that Castiel’s unruly hair and puffy lips always made it look like he had just come from being fucked senseless.  The thought occurred to him that he was about to do just that, and he moaned softly into Cas’s mouth.  He realized fully now that he had always wanted this.  He had buried it so deep, so far down… and then Castiel began unbuttoning Dean’s jeans, and all coherent thought fled his brain.  Dean had barely managed to get out “Cas, are you su-ahhhh” and Cas’s hand was wrapped around Dean’s cock.  Cas looked into Dean’s eyes with so much intensity that Dean gasped.  “Dean, there is nothing in this world I want more.” 

 

With that, Dean surrendered.  He pulled his pants off the rest of the way, which was all the time Cas needed to rid himself of his own.  This was it.  If there was going to be one final freakout over his sexuality, this would be the time.  Dean was mildly surprised that it did not materialize.  Looking at Castiel’s now naked body, all he could feel was pure awe at how insanely beautiful it was, and all he could think was how stupid he must have been to have waited this long to claim it.  Cas grinned and rolled Dean fully onto his back and straddled him, then began working kisses down his chest.  He got to the softness of Dean’s stomach, which he had always loved, and covered it with kisses until he could feel Dean getting impatient.  Immediately he moved down and to one side, and bit Dean’s hipbone, hard.  Dean gasped and thrust up involuntarily, his hands still tangled in Cas’s hair.  Cas moved to the other hipbone and nipped at it as well, determined to tease Dean just a little longer.  Finally he simply rested his face against Dean’s rock-hard, leaking cock, just breathing it in and holding his mouth against it.  Dean felt like he was about to stop breathing altogether when Cas finally moved slightly up and took Dean’s entire cock into his mouth.  Dean was not a small man, but Cas seemed to have no problem sucking down his entire length until he could feel Dean's cock hit the back of his throat.  Dean managed to gasp out “I thought only angels didn’t need to breathe” but after that he was too overcome to speak.  He softly moaned Cas’s name and thanked whatever gods in existence that he didn’t die before getting to experience this.  Cas pulled off Dean’s cock with a wet sucking sound, then continued to work it with his hand as he took Dean’s balls into his mouth.  Dean was just wondering where in the fuck he had learned to do THAT, when finally Cas stopped and moved back up Dean’s body, still holding his cock in his hand, and once again claimed Dean’s mouth with his own.  Dean pulled Cas’s face away by his hair and couldn’t help asking him. “Cas how in the hell are you so good at this?  Is there something you want to tell me??”  Cas’s eyes glinted.  “I’ve been doing… research, in this area for some time.  Just in case.”  Dean shook his head.  “How in the hell did I get so lucky.  And why in the world would you wait around this long without giving up on me?”  Cas kissed Dean’s bottom lip softly.  “The moment I laid my hand on you, you were mine and I was yours.  I only had to wait for you to realize it as well.”  Cas broke out into a grin again. “Did you think it was actually necessary for me to leave that handprint?”  Dean’s jaw dropped.  “You DIDN’T…”  “Think about it Dean- I pulled your brother’s giant ass out of Hell too, you never wondered why he didn’t have one?”  “I… Oh my friggin’ God.” Dean breathed as he flipped them over so that he was on top.  “That handprint hurt, you son of a bitch… I think I may have to get you back for that.  Mark you up a little myself.”  “Do your worst.”, came the immediate reply.


End file.
